


Can't Say Goodbye to Yesterday

by AnnontheOmnislasher



Series: Bonds Beyond Time. [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU: Winter Solidier, Alpha Steve, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Omega Bucky - Freeform, Others TBA - Freeform, Pack Dynamics, Values Dissonance, Violence, mind-control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnontheOmnislasher/pseuds/AnnontheOmnislasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve comes out of the ice to a strange new world, but as he settles into his new time, he is given a chance to regain the love he lost.  But the course of true love never does run smooth and his relationship causes uneasiness in both the team and the family that Steve has gathered around him.</p>
<p>Sequel to Marigolds and Tomatoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thawing out

Everything was wrong. Steve felt cold and damp despite the summer sun assaulting his closed eyes. Steve wanted to thrash, to get free, but the bonds that held him were ones he would never disturb.

“Steve, it's time to get up Alpha.” Bucky whispered in his ear. Steve squirmed and tried to nestle deeper away from the cold. 

Steve's eyes snapped open and he turned to reveal an unfamiliar ceiling. Steve blinked and for a second that the last three years had been nothing but a delirious fantasy caused by the drugs. If it meant being able to go home to Bucky, Steve would consider himself blessed.

The room was, off. It looked like a hospital room, he could even hear a distant radio. But some of the furniture was wrong, it looked like nothing Steve had ever seen. The light from outside seemed off and the game on the radio...he'd been there. It was a rare treat, a birthday present from Bucky and a couple of their friends. 

A woman dressed like a nurse with a man's tie came in, tried to keep him calm. But Steve wouldn't be soothed. He wanted to know where he was, he wanted to know how he got there and all he was getting was obstruction. Two men in black entered, and Steve faced off with them, throwing them at the walls, revealing the illusion in the process.

Hydra, this had to be the dying embers of Schmitt's organization, it was the only explanation. Steve took off, unsure of what he'd do once free. He passed through a bizarre hallway, the people scrambling out of his way.

Outside was like a whole different world. The cars zipped by without a care, and such quantity. Bright lights and strange sounds and smells assaulted his senses. Steve floundered for a moment and suddenly, dark vehicles encircled him. A stern and scarred man with dark skin and an eye-patch approached him and Steve braced for the end. Little did Steve realize that while it was the end, it was also the beginning as well.


	2. 2008 Geneva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little flashback, dark implications.

'Ten years climbing he SHIELD latter and still babysitting paper-pushers.' Brock Rumlow thought to himself as he waived his badge in front of the scanner in front of the doors of one of SHIELD's foreign bases. 

It had been a rough fourteen hours for Brock, first the long plane ride, then there was the interrogation in Heathrow almost from the moment he disembarked, then there was joining in the chase of two Thai operatives who had gone rouge after three of their colleagues had been killed outside of Oyonnax. 

It was Brock who managed to cripple one of the fugitives, a rather generic looking man who could pass for several ethnicity leading to the capture of both, as they were a bonded Alpha/Omega couple. Brock had sneered at the sentimentality, knowing that such feelings in their line of work was an excellent way to get oneself killed.

Brock made his way up the stairs to the rooms he had been assigned to. He intended to report his arrival to Alexander Pierce, his current assignment and hopefully be dismissed for sleep. The faint sounds of sex Brock could hear from halfway down the admittedly short hallway were not a good omen.

“...not good enough for you or are you too damaged to follow the most basic of directions?” There was the sound of a slap and a muffled groan of pain. Brock let out an irritated sigh, wondering what drama he was walking into.

“Mr Pierce, Agent Rumlow reporting for duty.” Brock called out, not wanting to walk into the middle of a minefield. There was a hissed threat and the door to the suite at the end of the hall opened.

“I wasn't expecting for quite some time, Agent. I understand that there was quite a commotion going on.”

“Nothing I couldn't handle, being the newest member of STRIKE.” Brock replied feeling confident about himself.

“Except that you have permanently damaged a valuable team of allies in your zeal agent, I can respect your enthusiasm but your methods will need some fine tuning. Still I'd like to see what kind of candidate your are for myself. How good are you at keeping secrets?”

“Sir, my track record with classified information is impeccable.” Rumlow said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Was Pierce going to have him get rid of his company for the evening? Still, Rumlow followed the beckoning Pierce.

Inside, laying on the ground was a male with dark hair. Rumlow could see he was well built, if not quite as large as some guys. He could make out a clean-shaven face, likely quite handsome under the damp hair. But it was the glint of metal that caught Brock's eye. At first Brock thought it might be a knife and reached for his gun, but it took him a second to realize the unknown male had a metal arm.

“This man is a new member of our circle. He is going to take you downstairs, it's time to go back on the ice.” Pierce ordered the other man. Rumlow stood there dumbfounded. “Give him this card and go to the basement and take the other elevator.”

“Is he really?” Rumlow said, the stories he'd dismissed easily as fiction suddenly seeming a lot more real. He watched as the unnamed man mechanically got to his feet and donned the offered boxer shorts and robe he was given. Rumlow could see the nasty bite-mark on his shoulder and the bright red of a failed Bonding.

“Not a word Agent.” Pierce replied dismissively. “You will be debriefed in the morning, I trust that you can follow a few simple instructions and keep your mouth shut until the morning.

In silence, Rumlow escorted his charge to the basement, handing him over to a tired and sour-looking technician who then dismissed Rumlow before opening the doorway to a room that had several sinister looking machines in it. Brock tried his hardest not to imagine what they did or what was going to happen to the other man.


	3. A night out

“C'mon, let's get out of here for a bit.” An agent, with blue eyes, short cut hair and an easy smile said one evening, pulling at Steve's arm. The prospect of getting away from the weeks-long routine of meetings, doctor's exams, presentations and if he was lucky some time in the gym kept Steve from resisting.

“Agent Barton?” Steve asked as they hastily entered an underused office.

“My friends call me Clint, and I'd like to be friends.” Clint said tossing Steve a hooded sweatshirt, and some sunglasses.

“It'd be good to have a friend, Clint.” Steve replied with a slight smile. “Though something tells me SHIELD won't be happy with our outing.”

“I'll take care of it.” Clint said ushering Steve down the hallway past the gym and locker rooms. “Besides, it's not like SHIELD intends to keep you locked up forever. I could see that it was getting to you.” They passed into a garage, Clint heading towards a burgundy colored truck with a bumper sticker saying his other car was a horse.

“Guys like to laugh, but this old gal has taken me a lot of miles.” Clint said as he climbed into the truck.

“So where are we going?” Steve asked, taking the opportunity to see his changed city. It was good that they were in Manhattan and not more...painfully familiar grounds.

“Well, baseball's out of season, and you don't really seem the type to want to go to a show. So I figured that a game or two of pool in this place me and Natasha, you haven't met her yet, like to hang out might be a good change of pace. That OK with you big guy?” A genuine smile passed over Steve's lips.

“Sounds good to me, Clint.” Steve said as he watched a group of barely-clothed girls pass on a sidewalk. Most were likely Betas, Steve only able to make out two or three patches on exposed necks.

Back in the day, an unmated Omega would only dare to let their patch peek out from the collar. Only once a proper bite-mark had formed would an Omega wear a looser collar. But then again, it was unheard of for Omegas back in his day to be let out without a mate after dark while these girls seemed to revel in the harsh glow of the streetlights.

Even the beer tasted different, Steve drinking more out of a need to fit in than anything else. “Do you come here often?” Steve asked racking up the balls for the first game, and stepping aside so Clint could break the rack. Clint proved to be an impressive shot, sinking two stripped and one solid ball with his opening shot.

“Often enough to know the ropes, not often enough for people to really remember, good rule of thumb in this business.” Clint answered as Steve barely managed to sink a solid ball. The next shot missed. “A little rusty eh?”

“Never had much of a chance to practice.” Steve said with a shrug. Clint laughed and sipped on his beer. “Though with as good as you are, I'd guess it's hard to find people to play with.”

“Only when money's on the line.” Clint sank two more balls and frowned, “Before SHIELD, I hustled at tables more than once. Let's just say, I have a specialized skill set.”

“We all have our little secrets.” Steve replied with a knowing nod. It was then that Steve noticed a line on one of Clint's fingers. He wondered what that meant, but knew better than to ask. “I should thank you, this has been the most fun I've had in about seventy years.” Clint laughed and Steve found himself liking the other Alpha's easy company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff and world building after the last chapter. Thank you all for the views, kudos and feedback <3


	4. Moving on...(2012)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some liberties taken with the MCU timeline. This chapter takes place after the Avengers.

“Not going to stay in New York?” Steve looked up from his task to see Natasha Romanov smirking down at him. He was unsure if he liked her yet or not. One one hand, she was as tough and strong a woman as Peggy was. On the other hand, however the fact that the redhead was an Omega meant constantly biting back comments about how improper her actions were.

“Too many memories.” Steve replied as he finished labeling things. Thanks to Peggy, many of Steve's household goods had been stored in Shield's archives. 

Unfortunately, most of it did not survive the years and some neglect. The only things worth saving had been the cigar box that Steve and Bucky used as a treasure chest. Inside Peggy had hidden Steve and Bucky's wedding bands, made from the remains of a family set of silver, his grandmother's engagement ring and his mother's pearls. All of Bucky's letters and his wedding photo had been the most heartbreaking of the losses.

“I can understand that.” Natasha said as she climbed into the driver's seat. Steve shook his head and climbed reluctantly into the passenger seats. He'd seen enough in the battle against Loki to think of telling her no. “I spend a lot of time in DC., if you need the name of a good place to pick up a date or get a decent meal, just ask.” She offered him a smile which Steve returned. 

“I'll keep that in mind.” Steve said, looking wistfully in the direction of Brooklyn. “Though I'm surprised that you're not with Clint now.” Something indescribable crossed over her face. 

“What Clint and I have...is complicated. He needs to be somewhere now.” Natasha said in a firm tone. “Just like I think the both of us need to be away from Stark.” Steve let out a small laugh before looking embarrassed.

“Was I that obvious?” Steve asked fiddling with the radio. 

“Let's just say, it would have taken less than Loki's staff to get you two to come to blows.” Natasha replied and Steve could not bring himself to argue.

“You know Steve, I think I'm looking forward to working with you.” Natasha said brightly after a few minutes of awkward silence. “I was worried that you'd be like too many older agents I've worked with, far too eager for me to get knocked up and retire as someone's little wife. But not you, you are truly ahead of your time Steve Rogers and it's an honor to work with you.” 

Steve blushed not in humility but embarrassment. Steve did believe that an Omega's proper role was that of mate and homemaker. It was only his education about modern times and watching his fellow SHIELD agents that had clued him into the changing views of society.

His feelings regarding Natasha were torn, as he did respect her as a fighter but still his instincts reacted as they would with any Omega and it would take time for him to accept these things that just were not done in his times.

“It'll be good to work with you as well.” Steve said, only half lying.


	5. Another Day, (2014)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've hit CA:TWS-era. Yay!

Over the years, it became easier for Steve to simply ignore Natasha's Omega nature and the two had become fast friends. Of the 'team' Fury had assembled, her and Clint were the only two he really had contact with. Thor had returned to his planet to deal with his troublesome little brother, Bruce was pleasant enough to be around but was deeply reclusive and Steve was not one to pry and Tony and him constantly butted heads.

Natasha's car peeled away from the curb as Sam Wilson, the Alpha that Steve had befriended watching them in a mixture and curiosity.

“You have an odd way of picking up friends.” Natasha said with a smirk.

“How long were you watching?” Steve asked with an easy laugh, Natasha's grin widened slightly.

“Long enough, never thought I'd see the day when Captain America would pull a prank.” Steve let out a chuckle.

“Well it just goes to show that you don't know everything about me.” Steve replied smugly.

“Not yet, but I will just like I'll find your type soon.” Natasha countered brightly. Steve sometimes was a little exasperated at her tenacity in finding him a lover. Sometimes he wondered how Natasha figured out the loneliness he tried so hard to hide.

Natasha spent the rest of the car ride trying to pry out more information about the kinds of traits that Steve might like, a common pastime when the two of them were together. At first, Steve had indulged Natasha's efforts and been honest but after the suggestions started, he found himself saying what he thought she wanted to hear, especially since old-fashioned girls seemed to be extinct in these times.

After arriving at HQ, Steve quickly went to change into uniform, passing by the Strike Team leader Brock Rumlow in the locker room. As usual, Brock was already in uniform, slouched back on a bench and no doubt looking at pictures on his phone that management would no doubt not appreciate him looking at on company time.

Steve had barely finished changing when Brock announced it was time for everyone to leave. At first, Steve wondered if this was another volley in their subtle war for dominance but then he overheard Rumlow and Rollins talk about an escort duty after this mission and figured that Rumlow had other affairs on his mind.


	6. Waking Up

The thaw began as it always did, with the slow retreat of cold from his body and the meaningless string of words. With every one, his mind would lock into place, all the cold pieces of his mind, his skills, his training, the faces he needs to know all are brought out of the cold. Swept away are the confusing jumble of feelings, thoughts and memories that serve no purpose other than to hinder the Soldier.

Cold and hard, the Solider was made with instinct only to obey. Gone is the feeling of fevered skin against his, gold hair and blue eyes. The chain of words continues with efficiency, clawing into his brain and brushing aside nights of passion and days spent in vain working makeshift implements inside of him, seeking the faintest trace of release.

No matter how often this ritual was completed, his mind fought to hold on to the feeling of safety of arms that were both wiry and muscular with great strength. But even that was not enough to keep his will from crumbling.

“Good Morning Solider.” The last traces of the rebelling mind had been swept away and all that remained was a creature of cold and obedience.

“Ready to comply.” The solider recited, allowing his handlers to dress and equip him. Without an order, the Solider followed the handler into a room where his mission commander awaited. He was greeted by a face lined by age and the burden of leadership, Alpha but not-Alpha.

The Alpha gave him a stern look before handing the Solider a folder. Inside was a man with an eyepatch.

“Over the last few years, this man has become more trouble to us than he is worth.” All of the Soldiers instincts screamed to obey, to make up for past failures. “He is an old friend, so if possible make it swift.

The hit proved to be far more public than the solider liked. He preferred to work in remote areas, where there were less people to stare. But this attack was coordinated with the local Hydra operatives. Their methods were blunt, predictable, sloppy. They had alerted the target, if he had only worked alone the target would be too surprised to try and escape.

Eventually, the target was re-located in the home of one of his subordinates. The Solider took his shot, hitting his target. The second target, for some reason the Solider could not bring himself to pull the trigger. The faintest traces of the mind hidden beneath his training, rippled and flashed though his mind. 

The Solider felt confused and afraid at this malfunction as he was not supposed to have them the only things that mattered were his training and conditioning. Quickly, the Solider raced towards where the meetup and below he could hear the second target racing in the building below, being none too caring about the property damage in his wake.

With practiced ease the Soldier leaped from the roof from one building to another. To his surprise, his pursuer crashed through a window onto the roof as well. The Soldier only had a split second to react as a heavy metal shield was flung in his direction. His metal hand intercepted the weapon with ease as he leveled a cold stare at the other man. 

In the poor light, it was hard to make out the other man, but there was something about him that stirred up his disjointed memories. The Soldier tried to shake the uncertainty as he flung the weapon at the other man, the force sending him back several paces. 

Handler Rumlow was waiting impatiently as the Soldier made his way to the ally where his SUV had been stashed. Without a word he climbed into the vehicle, Rumlow looked at him expectantly.

“Target eliminated.” The Solider said without any emotion. Rumlow grinned and started the engine.

“Well let's get you to Pierce and give him the good news.” Rumlow said excitedly before beginning to chatter about things that meant nothing to the Soldier. All the Solider could think about was the man on the roof and why he seemed so familiar.


	7. Moving Foward

Steve tried to feel guilty about not trusting Nick Fury, for letting suspicion distract him but somehow he could not. Since the beginning, Nick was constantly lying to Steve, often for his own protection and while Steve could respect Fury as a superior, he found himself unable to trust him as friend. Fury, it seemed did not feel the same way and that trust might just have cost the SHIELD director his life, if the flashdrive in his pocket was any indication.

None of that, however made it easier for Steve to look over as Natasha watched the window with a mixture of horror and affection. In that brief window of unguarded emotion, several pieces of the puzzle that was the Black Widow came together. The look in Natasha's eyes as Fury's death was called by the medical staff was the same one Steve had seen in the mirror many times since that fateful day long ago.

For a moment, Steve wanted to give Natasha the flash drive, but decided that she might be safer not knowing that he had it. She needed time to deal with her pain and grief, or Natasha could just as easily slip down the same road that Steve had gone down. 

Steve had talked with Peggy and the remaining Howling Commandos, the ones still lucid enough. It had been a wake up call to realize how much his death had impacted them all. Steve was glad that he had done some good, from giving his old squad the clout they needed to be an invaluable asset to the war effort, being a symbol that gave many a cause to rally around to simply saving the man who would become Peggy's husband until his death many decades later. Steve wondered in what ways had the Black Widow helped the world to be a better place and if she'd ever notice.

Steve really didn't have time to speculate too much as he saw the STRIKE team approach, and guessed that he would soon be called for questioning. Steve looked around quickly and noticed a nearby vending machine being stocked, and made a quick decision to hide the flashdrive and come back for it later once his interrogation was over.

Steve had expected to be questioned, and once the brief exchange with Secretary Pierce was over he was not too surprised by the attempt to lead him to a no doubt far more intense questioning session by SHIELD personnel. 

The kicker to everything that had happened to him so far this day was that Steve found it almost welcome. Dealing with this developing crisis was simpler by far than his day to day struggles. Maybe it was having something concrete to fight against or maybe it was the familiarity of battle but he'd take a possible world-shaking conspiracy over this changed world and the bleakness of knowing that he'd be unable to find someone with whom he could truly relate and maybe learn to love.

But all that had to wait, the mission is what mattered now was the mission and the first step was for Steve to retrieve the flashdrive he'd stashed in the hospital.


	8. Looking Forward

Alexander Pierce knew he had broken a cardinal rule of handling the Winter Soldier, and that was that he had gotten personally attached. But, he thought as he made his way to where the Soldier’s maintenance station was located, he had earned the privilege. Hydra command had remained prudently silent about his breach, preferring the results Alexander had produced in keeping the Winter Soldier obedient and docile.

 

Besides, Alexander thought to himself, even Betas would have found the temptation to get sexual with such a beautiful and lonely Omega placed so completely under their protection. Compound that by the decades the two of them had spent working together, cryostatis and brief loan-outs notwithstanding and it was inevitable. Despite all of this however, the Solider proved unable to bond with him. Alexander tried to tell himself it was the conditioning, the experiments or perhaps even his biology.

 

But still, Alexander's ego would not be quelled. Every rejection by his Soldier, the Omega who should be his rankled Alexander. He wanted, needed to push all thoughts of the Soldier's previous lover aside and take his rightful place and being denied brought out Alexander's rage like little else.

 

Inside the vault, the Soldier was in his chair, a technician working on his arm. Alexander had not patience for his rambling of an Alpha whom the Solider should have buried with his supposed death over half a century again. Alexander was barely able to control his temper as he tried to redirect the Omega's distracted attention but once it was clear that more drastic measures needed to be taken.

 

“What the hell happened back there Rumlow.” Alexander asked pulling aside the STRIKE team leader.

 

“Your boy went against the Cap'n, and fought the good fight but it seems that whatever was done to Rogers is still more than our best efforts.” Rumlow said with a shrug.

 

“We had a little trouble getting into place since Winter over there chose the worst possible place for an ambush. Covering the exits and closing off communications was a nightmare.”

 

“What about Rodgers and his friends?” Alexander was barely able to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

 

“I think Rogers finally found his pack. Wish I could have seen his face when he saw that the guy trying to take down his new 'family' was his long-dead little Omega.” Rumlow was on the verge of laughing until a look from Alexander brought him back to his senses.

 

“So Rogers knows, despite my efforts to keep that information from him.” Rumlow squirmed under Alexander's glare.

 

“Maybe this is for the best. I mean, if Roger's attention is on getting his 'Bucky' back.” “Rogers is the kind of guy who will put the greater good above his own issues.” Alexander cut in sharply, feeling possessive, not wanting all of his years of trying to win the Omega for his own to be in vain.

 

But those feelings would have to wait because like Rogers, Alexander had a future to fight for and a mission to see succeed.


	9. A last look back

Steve knew what the others expected of him, to be the a strong, steadfast champion of right. This had been a burden he'd been given alongside the serum in Project Rebirth and Steve carried it without hesitation until now.

Steve didn't expect the others to understand, like so many subtleties, being bonded had a different meaning in this time. In Steve's time, marriage was for life, whereas now relationships seemed to be disposable. Steve had thought about it and decided the problem was simply that without clear leadership both parties in the couple go easily astray. So, Steve understood how the others would be unable to see why Steve could not just forget his feelings and take down his mate.

Even in Steve's darkest times, Bucky had been there for him. The memories were far too many; from their shared childhood to their too-brief marriage. How could Steve be expected to hurt the one who stood beside and comforted him through his various illnesses, had done everything in his power to keep a tidy home and the both of them fed no matter how tight their resources were. 

The very thought of harming the one he loved more than anything, to throw away this chance to be together with Bucky once more was not one that Steve could ever contemplate. A dark part of Steve had almost been tempted to lash out at his packmates for even suggesting such a thing.

Despite their doubts, the path ahead was clear to Steve. He would go and stop Hydra's scheme and once that was done he would tear through the organization until he found Bucky once more. But as Steve had told Sam, to fight a war he DID need a uniform and he knew where one was that would be relatively easy to get.

Steve looked at the display before him, remembering his old team, the ones that had almost been a pack to him. Steve stroked the blue jacket on the mannequin representing Bucky fondly, despite the fact it was a replica that had never been worn. For a moment, Steve considered stealing this as well but decided against it. Steve intended to have his Omega at his side once more, and this time Steve intended to do the right thing and keep Bucky safe at home just as he had wanted to since that awful day at the Hydra stronghold. 

'Hold on Buck, your Alpha's coming for you soon.' Steve thought as he began undressing the mannequin. Steve feels his pulse starting to race as he took one last look at the blue coat. “Soon, I promise.” Steve whispers as he carries his costume off to battle once more.


	10. The Persistence of Memory

The Soldier made his way to his prime target, not letting anything delay him not even the sub-targets. He watched Captain America, guessing that he was heading towards the helicarriers. Not-alpha had mentioned them as the target's most likely destination. 

It was nothing for the Solider to cut through any opposition easily, setting up his ambush on the third helicarrier. His strike was perfect, sending Captain America flying over the side. The secondary target was quickly dispatched over the side, wingsuit heavily damaged. He looked over the edge to confirm his kills to see Captain America still alive.

Unprompted, the snippets of feelings and memories flashed over his mind; the feeling of holding something precious in his arms, a spirited smile on the target's face looking up from a smaller frame, a hand he wanted to grab more than anything. 

The Solider fought for control, Captain America was his mission, and the Soldier’s sole purpose was to complete his mission. He didn't like how just the sight of Captain America disturbed the comfortable order disturbed his mind, grabbed his attention and riled messy emotions; desire, shame, joy and fear. 

The Solider fought to regain his mind as he stood between Captain America and his goal. No doubt after this mission he would have to endure the agony of the chair and then the ice, but at least he would no longer have to endure the chaos his current target caused. 

Suddenly his target's there and The Solider struggles for control of his own actions, “People are gonna die, Buck. I can't let that happen.” For a second all he can do is stare at his target, silently asking what power he has to created an impulse to obey. 

“Please, don't make me do this.” Strangely the target's voice is a broken begging, not unlike previous targets had been before begging for his life. The Solider hesitates before heading into his attack. The target's eyes are watering but he still manages to knock him aside. The Soldier regains his bearings and strikes the second his back is turned. He sees some success as the chip he'd been fumbling with falls off the narrow catwalk and The Soldier slides toward it.

“No Bucky!” The target says, catching up to him. “Please remember.” The Soldier freezes as the collar of his suit is seized, fingers roughly ripping the mock turtleneck and straining reenforced leather to expose his patch. The Soldier renews his struggles, the feeling of being pinned and at the mercy of the one above familiar on a primal level. 

“Remember, just remember.” Comes the pleading voice of Steve- why is it Steve now, he wonders briefly-, the Soldier’s heart flutters as the faded Bondmark is first caressed and then viciously bitten. Emotions flare, stronger than ever and The Soldier keens in rage and confusion.

“Just stay there Buck, just for a minute.” The compulsion to obey is too strong for The Solider. For a moment his mind drifts to a lumpy mattress and a wonderful smell, so like the Alpha that had just been above him. 

'Why don't you bond?' the harsh voice of not-Alpha chastens him. He doesn't like these memories, sometimes they hurt more than the chair. The Soldier hates the churning in his own head, his Omega nature warping the peaceful order of his mind. Not-Alpha's voice continues to rail against him, accusing him of chasing after ever Alpha in the vicinity, insults are hurled at him and The Solider seethes. Every Alpha is the same to the Solider, all them just see an Omega to use as they see fit, something to claim and dispose of. But this feels different, the thought of claiming by this Alpha, feels familiar and pleasant. 

The target's attention is away from him, the Solider takes advantage. He can still finish his mission, and sweep away all these inconvenient feelings. The target flinches as he is shot in the stomach but he continues to sabotage the helicarrier they are in, the Soldier's Omega side reels in horror and his hand shake. The moans of pain are almost too much for the Solider, the urge to go to his Alpha are nearly too strong for him to resist. He watches in mute horror as the target completes his mission and looks at him.

Alpha, the Solider thinks, suddenly feeling small and guilty. He disobeyed his Alpha, the Omega inside of him shakes in horror. He'll hurt or worse leave forever. The pain he caused...the pain he'll receive for not finishing his mission, it freezes the Solider in his place as the target collapses in pain, talking into a radio he must have on him.

“Fire now.” Steve -the target- he's no longer sure what to call him commands into a radio. A nightmare vision of Steve, his body smaller and narrower, laying cold on a bed eyes staring up lifelessly at him flashes before his eyes. The urge to go to his Alpha's side is too much for the Omega and he obeys his instinct as explosions wreck through the hellicarrier. Supports wrench themselves free as the ground beneath him, the Soldier’s legs falter as debris fall around him, one heavy support pinning him down.

The Solider feels his loyalty to Hydra falter as Steve, the Alpha to whom the Solider is feeling a greater urge to follow than Hydra. Just being by Steve's side brings out his Omega nature, making it harder for him to continue with his mission. 

“Why...you...are...my...mission...” He asks as he works his way out of the rubble. From the porous sides of the Hellicarriers he can see the destruction as the three had used their guns to destroy one another. The mission was a failure, he was a failed Soldier, and he feels like less than nothing. “Hydra...will...” He had to resist shuddering as he looked at the Alpha.

“There's no way I'm letting you go back to Hydra, Buck.” Steve said with a firm tone. “You're my Omega-” 

“NO I'M NOT.” The Soldier says, angry because he knows what will happen now. He has failed and the only punishment fitting for this level of failure: Decommission “I'm nobody's.” He had wanted to pull from the arms that suddenly held onto him but he couldn't bring himself to. 

“Buck, Buck. I'll help you remember.” Steve said before sinking his teeth into the Bondmark, the pain strangely delicious. More emotions and snippets of memories flooded back. 

“You were smaller.” The words seemed strange but he could not keep them from spilling out. The ground was starting to fall apart, and both of them knew that they would have to jump soon if they wanted to survive the night. “Steve, I'm-” The crunch of metal took his words away and together the both of them found an opening to jump into the river below Steve offered his hand and was given the one still flesh and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little while longer than I thought, sorry everybody.


	11. Vows

The Potomac river had been balmy with a swift current as it caught them. Steve had wanted to lead the two of them to safety, like a true Alpha but his injuries have proved too much for him. Instead, Bucky had to pull him onto the bank. Bucky looked at Steve with uncertainty as he struggled to lift his hand and hold onto his Omega. The commotion nearby told Steve that soon they would have unwelcome company.

“Go….safe...wait...” Steve uttered as he fought the pull of sleep, his hand on Bucky's shoulder running his thumb over the neat, fresh lines of his bitemark. Bucky gave a little nod and then disappeared into the brush. Overhead Steve could hear a helicopter and the rustling of a rescue unit.

 

Sam doesn't press Steve about Bucky on any of his visits to his bedside and Steve is grateful. Part of Steve wonders if Riley is the reason for Sam's silence but decides that now is not the time to ask. Instead he enjoys the peace of the moment.

“You're going to look for him.” It isn't a question but a statement from Natasha's lips, an expression of disapproval on her face.

“He's my Omega.” Steve said helplessly. “I have to see if-” “-He's gone Steve. Even if he remembers you, do you really think he'll be the same after everything he's done?” Steve knows she means well, that she doesn't want him to hurt himself.

What Natasha didn't seem to understand though was that more than just Bucky alive, was feeling their bond during their fight. Whatever had happened to Bucky, that connection remained and Hydra had not managed to destroy it but likely not from lack of trying.

“I'm going to see for myself. I'm not going to abandon my vows, and I won't throw away everything between us. Buck followed me into war to keep me safe and he's spent years a prisoner of an organization I failed to stop.” Steve countered vehemently. “I know you mean well but I don't want to move on, I want to try and get back what was taken from me.”

“I still think you are making a mistake.” Natasha replied, frowning. Steve simply laid back, too exhausted to argue. “I should go now.” She said apologetically before leaving.

Steve hated hospitals, always had. Growing up, having a nurse for a mother had been a blessing as Sarah Rogers did her best to keep him home as much as possible when his illnesses flared up. She would treat him as much as she could, and had even made sure to instruct Bucky when it was clear that he would be her future son-in-law.

 

_Steve fought back a blush as his Ma and Bucky loomed over him on the bed, sheet pulled to his waist and chest bared. Sarah's motherly grin was unwavering as she explained the contents of the jar and how to rub it on his chest._

_“Now don't be shy about touching him, you need to make sure to spread it around enough so that it seeps in good and deep like this.” Sarah said rubbing a dollop of it over Steve's aching chest. Bucky shot Steve a quick grin and then took the jar from Sarah. Sarah watched as Bucky applied the ointment._

_“Good work, Bucky, that should be enough for now.” Steve sighed unhappily as Bucky reluctantly withdrew his touch._

_“What can I say Mrs. Rogers, your a good teacher and I want to make sure to take good care of my future husband.” Bucky said sitting by Steve's side and clasping his hand._

_“I can see that.” Sarah replied with a slight laugh._

The next few weeks crawled by sluggishly. The serum did most of the work of repairing Steve's battered body and Steve spent most of his time resting. Sam stopped by often, giving Steve a welcome distraction from his boredom and impatience. But the only thing Steve could truly focus on was that somewhere close Bucky awaited their reunion.

'Hold on Buck, your Alpha's coming for you.' Steve murmured into his pillow every night as he settled into sleep, fighting to regain his strength so that he could leave this hospital and fulfill his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, some IRL issues came up.


	12. Living in the Shadows.

He knew that Hydra was out there, looking for him but, the Soldier, “Bucky?” wasn't his major worry. His designation seemed so muddled, as had everything he only knew he wasn't any one of those anymore. His last mission, Steve, had done something, unearthed something and now his mind was a muddle of memories and shattered programing.

All he could do now was to wait here to be found. As the hours stretched to days and then to weeks, this abandoned convenience store began to taunt him with it's empty shelves and idle equipment. The dirt and grime rubbed at his sensibilities every time he focused upon them. 

Faced with the promise of madness, he tried to shape it into a more comfortable shape. The metal shelves groaned as he pushed them to create smaller rooms. To the right, near where the roller grill and microwave sat, an almost calming space was made. Milk crates created a table and sitting area. A palette covered in collapsed boxes created a bed, empty fountain cups and plastic cutlery were gathered as were expired tinned peas and beef jerky. Yellowed magazines were fanned out over the table and moth-eaten tarps sat at the foot of the bed. 

He liked it here, it felt safe and familiar. Despite that however, he found it impossible to stay here, it felt too empty and lonely. He'd tried to cobble together a new area to stay in when the quiet outside of the roar of traffic from the nearby highway got to be too much but the only place that felt near right was the empty walk-in refrigerator in the back where he used the last of the boxes to create a small heap to lay upon and sink into nightmares.

And so things remained, the days following the same rhythm of waking up in his cell, checking his supplies and going out to procure more, returning and arranging the sanctuary and kneeling in wait until it is time to retire to his cell for the evening. Somedays he wants Steve to find him and take him away from his fractured mind, somedays it's Hydra and the fear of same and somedays he just wants to wait here forever until things make sense.

Today, the choice is finally taken away as he comes home and finds Steve Rogers on the outside of his sanctuary, peering at it with the awe he'd seen visitors look at the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian. Without making a sound, the Soldier crept to behind Steve, waiting to be spotted. Moments after he had stopped, Steve stiffened and turned around.

Several emotions passed across Steve's face; fear, happiness, sadness and anticipation. It seemed like Steve had wanted to rush up and embrace him, he felt a twinge of disappointment as Steve stopped and forced his face into a more neutral expression.

“Do you know me?” 

“You're Steve, I read about you in a museum.” He began, a tight feeling starting to form in his gut. Anticipation and fear warred within him, this man who was so unlike any he could remember and had twisted everything he knew. 

“Do you remember anything about me?” Steve asked with a hesitation that seemed so out of place to him.

“Not much, it's all mashed together...you were my Alpha?” He doesn't even have much time to think as Steve lets out a small happy cry and wraps his arms around him. On instinct, he curls into the embrace, feeling safe, warm and calm while smelling the pleasant musk.

“Yeah Buck, I'm your Alpha.” He burred his nose in the crook of Steve's neck. A strange feeling of...want bubbled up in his neck. This need was overpowering and he would do anything to stay where he was, even try and become the “Bucky” that Steve was obviously seeking.

He had no idea how to dredge up the memories that would help him, but there was something that always seemed to work with Alphas. He nuzzled against Steve the churning in his head quieting slightly. This embrace was both familiar and strange to him.

“This, I-i like this.” He began softly. “Want to say like this. Please let me say.” The warmth from Steve's body felt so comforting even in the late autumn heat. He knew one way to help sway the Alpha's decision in his favor. 

“Donno if I can be Bucky, but I can be such a good Omega for you.” He continued, kissing along Steve's neck. “Sweet” He uttered working on the buttons while trailing kisses down Steve's chest, taking time to admire the firm muscle and smooth skin, “Be so good.” Steve let out a gasp as his tongue swiped over a pebble-hard nipple, lovingly caressing it. 

“Buck.” Steve groaned out, fingers twisting into long, unwashed hair and twisting as the path downward continued. Steve allowed himself to be lead towards the sanctuary’s 'bed' and moaned as his erection was covered with open mouthed kisses through the thick denim of his jeans.

“Show you how good I can be.” He managed to mummer as Steve arched his back, groaning with need. In seconds the jeans were unbuttoned and he began working Steve's throbbing erection. The Omega could feel the effect of Steve's Alpha pheromones on his body. He feels so hot and slick and wants nothing more than to have the rock-hard erection he's working with his lips and tongue inside of him.

He doesn't remember much but the Omega does remember that most alphas want more than a limp body and if he wants completion, he is going to have to earn it. He continued to lick and suck Steve's aching cock, enjoying the pleasured moans and groans spilling out of the Alpha's mouth. Before long the thrusts became faster and there was more strength behind them. Steve's fingers threaded into his hair while Steve's cries got louder in prelude for the spray of hot semen down his throat. The Omega was too far gone from the scents and sounds of their coupling and the reactions of his own arousal to think of doing anything but eagerly cleaning any remaining traces of semen from Steve's body. Once done, the Omega pulled away sadly and moved to curl up at the Alpha's feet, as all his other partners demanded of him.

“No, Buck.” Steve said grabbing at his arm. “Stay. Please?” His cornflour blue eyes were pleading and the Omega relented. He never liked sleeping in his sanctuary, it always felt wrong and lonely but at this moment, there was no place that felt more right.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be slower as this is being re-written rather than being transcribed from Capkink. So feedback will be loved and might even help shape the story.


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